


6QGM387

by taliahale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s04e01 The Dark Moon, Gen, Stilinski Family Feels, The Jeep - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taliahale/pseuds/taliahale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Promises not kept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	6QGM387

“Remember, baby,” Claudia grins wide enough for Stiles to catch a glimpse of the gap between her front teeth, “if you don’t want it ruined by the rain, don’t put it in the glove box.”

Stiles nods, lets his mother push the too-long hair out of his eyes. “So where do you put stuff?”

“In the red toolbox under the passenger seat.” Claudia helps him down from the passenger seat and lets him peer down at the shiny red toolbox. “Important things go in the red toolbox. Tools go in the black toolbox,” she points at the larger black box.

“How come the tools don’t go in the red one?” Stiles asks as Claudia swings him up to settle on her hip.

Claudia laughs, bright and happy. “Always asking the tough questions. Sometimes you’re exactly like Daddy.”

“When I’m big, I’m gonna be a deputy.”

“Just like Daddy?” Claudia shuts the passenger’s side door and heads up the front walk, pulling the keys out of her pocket with her free hand.

“Just like Daddy.”

Claudia opens the front door and deposits the keys in a misshapen green bowl Stiles made in art class last May. “That’ll be something to see.”

“You’ll hafta take lots of pictures,” Stiles agrees, nodding sagely as Claudia sets him down and helps him out of his jacket.

“Of course,” Claudia nods in return. “I’ll take enough pictures for a whole wall of my men in uniform. I promise.”

 

\--

 

“Mom! Mom I have something for the red box!”

Claudia’s bent over the Jeep’s engine, hair tied back with a red kerchief and a smudge of oil streaked over her left eyebrow.

“Is that so?” Claudia wipes her hands on the worn cotton of her coveralls, kneeling to look at the paper in her son’s hands. “What’ve you got for the box?”

“It’s us!” Stiles proudly showcases a drawing of their family on the hood of a blue blob that’s probably the Jeep. “That’s you,” he points at the figure with the longest hair, “and Daddy,” he points at the figure with the yellow star for a torso, “and that’s me,” he points at the smallest figure, standing on top of the hood in a Batman shirt.

“It’s beautiful.” Claudia nods approvingly.

“Important enough for the box?” Stiles asks, eyes wide.

“Definitely.” Claudia retrieves the toolbox from beneath the passenger seat. She lets Stiles carefully tuck the drawing in with the proof of insurance and vehicle registration, smiling when his eyes catch on the stack of photos beneath.

“Are those of us?”

“You bet they are.”

“Cool.”

“Very cool,” Claudia agrees, closing the lid and carefully replacing it on the worn rug beneath the seat. “Some day there'll be a bunch with you and Daddy in uniform and that'll be great, won't it?" Stiles nods in agreement. "Want me to grab a stool and you can watch how I replace the drive belt?”

By the time she’s finished the repairs, Stiles has cheerfully relayed a revisionist history of the first Thanksgiving--she’s going to have to talk to the school board about the social studies curriculum, again--and explained the circulatory system of squids--she did not, in fact, know that they have three hearts--with breathless excitement.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” She settles the black toolbox beside the red one and slams the door shut.

“When I’m bigger can you teach me how to fix a car?”

“When you’re bigger, I’ll teach you how to fix _this_  car,” Claudia offers, making sure the latch catches when she lowers the hood. She’s going to have to check eBay for a replacement if Cal from the Elm Street Garage hasn’t tracked one down, yet. “I’m just keeping it warm until you’re tall enough to reach the pedals, kiddo.”

“Really?”

“Well, you have to reach the pedals and be sixteen, but yeah.” Claudia laughs and helps Stiles down from his stool. “This beauty will be all yours someday. I’ll teach you to treat her right. I promise.”

 

\--

 

“Lydia,” Stiles is struggling with the faulty latch of the Jeep’s hood, ignoring Malia and Kira’s bickering in the background, “can you grab me the tools under the passenger seat?”

Stiles startles at the loud clang the box makes when Lydia drops it. “That--” His voice cracks, eyes fixed on the red paint of the toolbox. “Wrong box,” he manages as Lydia starts unlatching the lid.

“Why would you have two--”

“Not. That. Box.”

Lydia’s eyes flick up and widen at the stony expression on his face.

“There’s a black plastic one. That’s the one with the tools,” Stiles says, hoping his tone’s enough to keep Lydia from asking him any questions right now. He knows better than to think she won’t ask eventually, but--

“Sure.” Lydia replaces the latch on the red toolbox and ducks back inside the Jeep. “Black toolbox,” she flicks it open. “Do you have an under hood light?”

Stiles shakes his head. “I’m gonna need you to hold the flashlight if it gets dark before I’m done.”

“Of course you are.” Lydia turns her back to him and settles against the driver’s side wheel well with a sigh.

Stiles is straddling the right headlight, wrench in his mouth, wishing he knew what the hell he was doing when Lydia groans in frustration.

“Maybe we should just walk.”

“Hey, I will never abandon this Jeep, understand me? Ever. Ever.”


End file.
